Oops! I couldda had a C8!

Dang head stem. If someone told me that my head's not screwed on straight - they'd be right.

My neck decided to go ahead and age 30 years ahead of the rest of my body.

The doc said it's like trying to balance a bowling ball on a -35 degree angled post. Superb analogy, eh?

Here I sit, ol' bowling ball permanently fused forward like I'm waiting for something. Godot?

The problem comes in that the vertebra that is most affected is the C8. Don't worry, I had no idea what that meant either... Just don't ask me to hold your baby or Fabergé egg collection. Definitely not a good option. That little bony bit at the base of my bowling ball pole holds the nerves that control the hands.

Yup, I'm a dropper. Just randomly, the signals coming through the 8 decide to detour to goodness knows where, and my hands just release. Thank God Dexa over at Kowalski's in White Bear Lake just happens to be the Queen of Cool. She barely batted an eye when I dropped my basket containing white-hot Minestrone, a full pint of blueberries and some schmancy expensive homemade Graham crackers into the shiny-new cheese case display she was showing me.

Aside from spilling nearly every glass at the table when we dine out, I can no longer tell which finger is which when putting on gloves. Guess I'll have to make the move to mittens this year... I'm considering getting ones with the string. I always wanted those as a kid - right around the same time I was famous for my Angus Young impression.